


Lance the Winter Mage

by Rigel126



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Lance is disaster gay, M/M, Shance Secret Santa 2018, Shiro is oblivious, Weird Ending, shance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 03:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17316854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rigel126/pseuds/Rigel126
Summary: Lance rescues a werewolf before Christmas. Fluff ensues. Shiro is oblivious and Lance is a disaster gay.





	Lance the Winter Mage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keir/gifts).



> This was written as a pinch-hitter fic for Shance Secret Santa 2018, but since it was not used by the organizers, I thought I would post it after Christmas but real life happened and it's only today , the first Sunday of the 2019 that I managed to post it here OTZ
> 
> Apparently Eastern Orthodox Christmas is on the 7th of January (aka tomorrow) so I think I'm not entirely late? Either way, consider this as a belated Xmas gift to my fellow Shance hoes Keir and Rigb0ner!
> 
> Enjoy this one-shot, fluffy drabble-fic of magic, floof, cuddles and Shiro being cute!

It was the Tenth of December, and a sheet of snow fell gently over the kingdom of Altea. Lance, the Winter Mage, had closed his tower and ventured out to a quiet spot deep in the West Forest as was his habit on the days of the full moon. He was heavily bundled in fur coats, and grumbled bitterly into his muffler, “By God, was I a fool to specialize in ice magic. Of _course_ the Mages’ Senate would send me to the coldest town in the land! Quiznak!”

A strong gust picked up and Lance pulled his overcoat more tightly to his body. “Brr! I’m too gay for this crap! Ugh!”

A noise came from the left, off the pathway. Lance turned his head to scan the trees. He could not see anything, but he felt the unmistakeable resonance of magic being used. Sensing something amiss, Lance dashed into the tree-line, his right hand clenching around the stock of a magically conjured crossbow made of pure ice.

The noises grew louder, and Lance heard people shouting and chains rattling violently. Lance burst out into a clearing and found a pack of poachers in Galran attire attempting to restrain a full-grown, fully-transformed werewolf with a chain snare, long pikes and low-level fire spells. The mixed stench of blood-iron and burnt fur was stomach-churning, and red stained the snow on the ground like macabre winter flowers.

“What do you think you’re doing?” roared Lance, firing his crossbow skywards: the bolt transformed into a flare that exploded high above them, an emergency signal that would summon the Altean Rangers. “Werewolf-hunting is forbidden in Altea without a Senate De- whoa!” Lance dodged a fireball that flew past his head and set a tree on fire.

“Kill that bastard!” shouted the Galran fire mage. Of the six poachers holding down the werewolf, three rushed at Lance, brandishing their weapons.

“Now you’ve done it,” growled Lance, his blue eyes glowing brightly with magic-infused rage.

*

The first Rangers to arrive on the scene were Coran and Keith, and they found Lance in the middle of a circle made from seven towers of ice, littered with broken weapons, blood and a torn metal snare. Lance was on his knees, gently stroking the head of a black-and-white-haired werewolf who was covered in blood, to the astonishment of the Rangers.

“What happened here, Lance? Are you alright?” asked Coran, prudently keeping his distance when he saw Lance’s eyes glowing.

Lance turned his face to Coran, but his shining blue eyes were unfocused like those of a blind man. “Ah, Coran, you’re here. I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“I apologize for being a tad bit late, but we of the Ranger always come when we are needed to defend the peace of the realm.” Coran grabbed Keith’s arm firmly before he could do anything that might provoke Lance while the Winter Mage was in one of his ‘episodes’.

“Excuses, excuses,” retorted Lance airily. “But since you’re here, then all is well.” Lance closed his eyes and tilted his head back, breathed in and let out a long, throaty sigh before sinking onto his back in the blood-stained snow. When he opened his eyes, they looked normal again. Human.

“Sorry about that, Coran, Keith.” Lance turned his head and nodded weakly at the two Rangers, who visibly relaxed and came closer. “I need your help to arrest these criminals.”

With a snap of his fingers, the seven towers of ice crumbled, revealing the Galran poachers and their third-rate mage-for-hire; they all fell on the ground, shivering violently and incapacitated by the biting cold.

“Their offenses include hunting without a permit, inhumane treatment of a Special Rights Beastman, resisting arrest, and _especially_ , attempting to harm the Winter Mage of Altea, the fabulously stylish Lance McClain de la Espada IV!” Lance announced and then burst into tired laughter.

*

Christmas Eve was the busiest time of the year at Lance’s wizard tower. The queue was some thirty yards long with the denizens of Altea clamouring for charms and potions for the festive season.

In the back room where Lance had his laboratory, the Winter Mage himself was in a mad frenzy preparing his wares. Objects flew through the air, propelled by magic, while miniature ice golems manipulated long ladles to stir the contents of eight cauldrons lined against the walls.

“Lance, we’re running low on Sobering Potions and Cold Wards out here!” Pidge stuck his head into Lance’s laboratory and hollered.

Lance stuck his finger into one bubbling cauldron and tasted it. “Tell ‘em that the Sobering Potion is being bottled right now.” He swished his finger at the ice golem stirring the cauldron; the golem leaped off its stool and began dragging a wooden pellet filled with empty glass vials to be filled with the newly-brewed Sobering Potion.

“Shiro, did you finish checking the Cold Wards?”

Shiro, the black-and-white-haired werewolf who Lance rescued two weeks ago, looked up from his work. “Almost done,” he grunted.

“Then will you be a dear and bring the ones you’ve checked out to the front? I don’t want Pidge to be lynched by a bunch of angry housewives.”

Shiro was about to comply when he suddenly let out a vicious growl. There was the evident sound of an Arusian squeak.

Lance sighed. “No outsiders allowed in… oh!”

“Y-your Magnificence.” The tiny Arusian handmaiden gave Lance a nervous curtsey while keeping a watchful eye on Shiro, who towered over her with bared fangs.

“It’s alright, Shiro.” Lance waved at Shiro to calm him down.

“Princess Allura sent me to collect her order.”

“Ah, yes. Take those wards to Pidge, Shiro, and then I’ll need you to help me with some heavy lifting.”

Shiro huffed in quiet annoyance before hauling a crate out while the Arusian handmaiden scampered out of the way before Shiro could trample on her.

Lance worked into the night, long after he closed his shop and sent Pidge and Hunk home, checking his inventory of magical ingredients and balancing his accounts ledgers.

“Lance,” growled Shiro, all stretched out on his cot. Even in his humanoid form, Shiro still had wolf ears at the top of his head, and his long tail bushy tail swished across his muscular thigh.

No response from Lance.

“La-nce,” Shiro whined.

“Go to sleep, Shiro,” said Lance idly, scratching his quill across his ledger.

Shiro started whimpering and whining like a puppy.

Lance’s quill snapped in his fingers, splattering dots of ink on the page. “Quiznak, will you stop that?!”

When he looked up to glare at Shiro, the big, hulking werewolf was looking at Lance with big, sad, puppy eyes. It defied logic how a ferocious werewolf could make himself look so… adorable. The thought of it made Lance’s head hurt and his squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

Lance let out a surprised ‘oof’ when Shiro came and sat on his lap uninvited, like a big untrained dog, and just slumped bodily against Lance.

“Get off me, you dumb mutt!” Lance half-scolded, half-gasped, wriggling under Shiro, but Shiro was just too heavy. “I can’t breathe!”

“Lance,” Shiro said, happily ignoring Lance’s protests while he nuzzled the wizard’s neck to breathe in his scent. “I missed this. Missed you.”

“What are you talking about, you doofus?” grumbled Lance, blushing red. “We were together all day in my tower, weren’t we?”

“But I couldn’t touch you. Couldn’t smell you.”

Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? Are you saying I, the magnificent Lance McClain de la Espada IV, world-renowned Winter Mage, _smell_?”

“Mmhm! Like spring water, milk soap and family.” Shiro was oblivious to Lance’s sarcasm and proceeded to happily scent-mark Lance by rubbing his stubbly cheek along Lance’s lower jaw.

Lance’s face was so hot he could combust like the sun. “Alright, alright. Get off me already so that I can go to sleep.”

“Okay! Sleep!” Lance could barely walk to bed with the way that Shiro clung to him, unwilling to be physically separated. It was annoying, but Lance would be lying if he said that he didn’t not find it a tiny bit endearing. Especially since Shiro in his humanoid form was brawny and handsome the way Lance liked his male companions to be.

 _No, Lance, you can’t!_ Lance chastised himself internally when his legs finally gave out and Shiro hauled him over to bed like a sack of potatoes. _Shiro’s behaviour is so innocent and childlike, he’s almost like a child. I can’t make a move on-_

Lance’s internal struggle died when Shiro plopped Lance on the bed and pounced on him. Shiro giggled and sniffed and nuzzled Lance a bit before spooning Lance against him, Shiro’s nose buried in the wizard’s brown hair.

“Good night, Lance.” Shiro yawned and quickly fell silent and still, save for his soft snoring.

Squirming a bit in Shiro’s warm and muscular embrace, Lance wondered if the gods had granted him a boon or were playing a cruel trick on him. Either way, Lance was not going to be able to sleep well that night.

 _Merry quiznaking Christmas to me,_ thought Lance.

END

 

 


End file.
